Though Toby never had stitches growing up (quite shocking, considering), I have had enough for both of us. Considering how accident-prone I alone seem to be, it was really just a matter of time before someone else in the family experienced the joy of the stitched-up wound.
It's just a shame that it had to be Anna - the one least able to cope with any discomfort.
A rainy Saturday afternoon had the big three kids wrestling on the couch (a game they, for some reason, call "baseball"). Being in another room, I could occasionally hear yells and giggles, peppered with Toby's "Be careful!". Suddenly, there was a thud, a cry and a yell of , "Kell!!!". I run in to find Toby holding Anna's chin together with this declaration: "This is going to need stitches." Now, Anna was doing pretty well until she heard the word "stitches". Then, abject terror filled her eyes, calming her down was a significant effort, and I wanted to punch Toby (poor guy).
In the end, a trip to Patient First (for the Brits, it's a sort of cross between doctor's office and A&E - a bit more efficient than the local hospital) provided her with 3 stitches on the chin and a neat story to share.
She's been coping admirably, though she was pretty anxious about people noticing her stitches. Of course, that was short lived, since she started pointing them out to pretty much everyone in a matter of minutes.
And for the record, I have no idea how her fall could have resulted in such a cut in such a spot. I can only assume she fell directly on her chin, in which case she's fortunate she didn't do more damage. Praise God for small (and great) mercies!
